


Maybe I'll Keep It After All

by Cruxite_Created



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Ableist Language, Ableist Slur, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Tattoos, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Tattoo artist Dave, davekat - Freeform, humans and trolls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-06-02 10:20:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6562528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cruxite_Created/pseuds/Cruxite_Created
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Looking through tumblr, I found a post about soulmate au's (http://silentpeaches.tumblr.com/post/125291322610/soulmate-au-story-ideas) that was absolutely amazing. So here's some DaveKat for it. It's probably kinda ooc though, so let me know if it's repulsive.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Maybe I'll Keep It After All

**Author's Note:**

> Looking through tumblr, I found a post about soulmate au's (http://silentpeaches.tumblr.com/post/125291322610/soulmate-au-story-ideas) that was absolutely amazing. So here's some DaveKat for it. It's probably kinda ooc though, so let me know if it's repulsive.

Karkat looked at the black ink curling across his gray. The piece was massive, taking up most of his arm with gears tearing through the flesh, blood running down through the rips. He hated it, being owned, having his fate decided for him. All this soulmate hoofbeast shit was fucking retarded. Even being a hopeless romantic at heart, he couldn't stand the thought of it and the markings on his skin just proved it.

Karkat knew the stories, he'd seen the people they affected positively, once black ink filled with breathtaking colors. They were happy, gushing about how lucky they were to have found each other in a world of nearly eight billion. Destined matespirts, lovers brought together by the will of God or the Horrorterrors. He didn't mind that they were happy, after all even if something is fucking terrible for one person, it could be fine for another. 

He had also seen lovers torn apart, people perfect for each other and truly in love just done. All because their marks bloomed for another. He'd seen others forced into abusive relationships, tattoos colored in fear and depression. He's seen the sorrow that was brought by losing your soulmate, the pain that courses through their bodies, compliments of their shared ink. 

And like all ink, it could be removed. The link could be severed and having never met his soulmate, it'd do minimal damage, instead freeing them from the unwanted bond. And so, he scheduled a removal. And in a way, a jail break from all this cosmic destiny bullshit. 

****

Dave always wondered when his soulmate would enter his life. The plain black ink that curled across his paper white skin only went to show that they hadn't. He wasn't as lucky as Rose, he figured, who had found her soulmate during adolescence. In all honesty, Dave was ecstatic over the idea of meeting his partner and the idea was never far from his mind. 

Yet he understood that others thought differently and in his line of business it wasn't his place to judge or convince them otherwise. Though he was aware of the pain the procedure of removing the mark could cause the unwitting partner having a piece of their soul forcefully yanked from them. The costumer always insisted it was worth it, having no true future. So he kept quite and did his job. 

And it was while he was at working, adding new ink onto a spot of bare flesh that he got a call. Smiling at the troll sitting in his chair he assured her it'd be just a moment and stood to take the call. The voice on the other end of the line was deep, a bit scratchy and overall unique. They asked to make a removal appointment and Dave felt a small pang of sadness for whatever sap was being abandoned in his chest. He agreed and set up a time with the man on the other end. 

In two weeks, this "Karkat Vantas" would be free of his "burdensome" soulmate. 

****

In two weeks time the door to the tattoo parlor swung upon with a chime and in stalked a short troll. He wore a long sleeved black sweater and dark gray jeans. His eyes were a bright red and Dave found himself thinking they might even be the same shade as his. The troll stood by the check in area and sighed moodily, running a hand through fluffy, black hair that nearly engulfed his small horns. 

Dave strode up to the front of the shop, eyes squinting a bit as he neared the bright light streaming in from the windows. 

"Do you have an appointment?" He asked plainly, his southern accent extremely noticeable. The small troll nodded with a look of annoyance before folding his clothes arms over his chest. 

"Yeah, for Karkat Vantas." 

Dave nodded and motioned for Karkat to follow him to the back of the shop. Looking over his shoulder at the troll, he questioned him. "So I'm assuming you're aware of the cost and how the procedure works, right?" The troll huffed out an 'of course' and Dave nodded in approval. "Just making sure," he affirmed as they came to the work table.

Pulling on a pair of pristine, latex gloves, Dave checked the laser removal equipment once again. Turning to Karkat patted the chair and said, "I'm going to need you to show me wear your tattoo is." The red eyed troll huffed before pulling off his sweater and pushing up the sleeve of his gray t-shirt underneath, not even sparing a glance to the ink marred skin. 

Dave's eyes widened in shock as he looked on at the design, bright crimsons and deep burgundies painting it, seemingly flowing through the skin. Hurriedly, he pushed up the sleeve of his red shirt, revealing the same colors of vermillion gears and dark red blood. A small noise of shock escaped his throat as he stumbled back, hip hitting the small rolling table beside him causing him to fall over. 

The contents of the table fell along with him and stared at the moving artwork on his skin. Tears pooled in his cerise eyes and shook his head, white hair moving manically. Why? Why did his soulmate have to want this? His breathing speed up and he scrambled away from the troll sitting in the chair glaring at his arm. 

"Are you fucking kidding me?" The troll whispered, gravelly voice breaking with anger. "Am I fucking being punished?"

Dave looked up at him, heart pounding in his ears, fingertips, pulsating in his eyelids. His arms and legs shook as if they were being put under strain. He blinked rapidly, trying to rid moisture from his eyes, but it wasn't helping any. With a grunt he wiped off the shades, dragging the heel of his hand over the red, teary eyes. 

Karkat stared at him, a deep sorrow in his chest. Gingerly rising out of the chair, he crept over to the albino and crouched next to him. With a sigh that was equal parts resentment and sadness, he ran his hand through the soft, snow-white hair of the tattoo artist, making shooshing noises. "Hey," he said, his voice showing just how awkward he felt. "It'll…it'll be okay. There's really no reason to be sad."

Dave shook his head, but didn't move away from the comforting papping. "Oh yeah," he said bitter and breathless from trying to keep from openly crying. "I'm sure it'll fucking be peaches and cream. The best damn thing since sliced bread. Nothing quite like your soulmate rejecting you and trying to carve you out of them." He huffed. Turning to towards Karkat, he looked at him and fought to keep his face completely neutral. 

Karkat gasped at the sight of the albino's eyes. "Their red," he whispered hoarsely, running gray finger just above his eyebrow. Dave nodded, looking away before brushing off the hand and standing. Patting himself off, he picked up the small table and the contents of it and put on a new pair of gloves. "Well," he motioned to the chair. "May as well sit down."

Karkat stood and stared at the chair, holding his colored arm to him as if it was injured. Glancing at Dave, he stepped forward and grabbed the sweater that was left draped unceremoniously over the arm of the chair. Pulling it on, he shook his head and stepped back. "No. I'm thinking, maybe I'll keep it after all." He said plainly, writing down his trollian handle and laying it on the counter of the front register as he walked out, door chiming. 

Oh Horrerterrors, does he hope he didn't make a huge fucking mistake.


End file.
